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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25944565">Witchcraft Shenanigans of the Tentacular Kind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaryofageekgirl/pseuds/diaryofageekgirl'>diaryofageekgirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animal Transformation, Don't worry, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Magic, References to Bestiality, but no bestiality happens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:48:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25944565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaryofageekgirl/pseuds/diaryofageekgirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel was an octopus. A very tiny, eager to explore octopus. And it was all that damn witches fault.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Witchcraft Shenanigans of the Tentacular Kind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/998768">What Has Eight Tentacles and Isn't Allowed to Eat Pie?</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D">Annie D (scaramouche)</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to specialagentrin on tumblr - she sent me the above summary as a prompt, and I just had to write it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean had no idea how this was his life.</p><p>That thought crossed his mind at three in the morning, not long after ganking a particularly infuriating witch. He was standing in the bathroom of a truly shitty motel, staring at his reflection in the cracked and dirty mirror.</p><p>Well, his reflection, and someone else’s.</p><p>Wrapped around one side of his head was an octopus. It was no bigger than his hand, and its skin was black with little silver speckles. Its big round eyes were blue as the summer sky, and its beak was currently trying to rip his ear off.</p><p>“Stop that,” he groused, trying for the millionth time to pull Cas away from him. “I know you’re not happy about this, but biting my ear off isn’t gonna make it better.” Dean flinched away as Cas squealed and squirted water directly into his ear, then settled down and started trying to nibble him again.</p><p>Yep. Castiel was an octopus. A very tiny, eager to explore octopus. And it was all that damn witch’s fault.</p><p>Dean groaned, rolling his head and shoulders, trying to work out some of the knots and aches. Sam had offered to take point on disposing of the body – mostly because Cas wouldn’t leave Dean alone, and they weren’t sure if it would be safe to keep him out of water for extended periods of time.</p><p>He brushed his teeth – an interesting endeavor, when you had an octopus wrapped around your hand and toothbrush, trying to stick two of its tentacles in your mouth. After the third time of nearly biting him, Dean huffed and pulled Cas off of him, plopping him in the shower. Cas grumbled at him, his squealy rumble much higher pitched than usual. Dean ignored him as he finished brushing his teeth. He spit the toothpaste out and rinsed out his mouth. He rubbed the towel over his face, turning back to an unhappy octo-Cas.</p><p>“If you’d just settle down and stop tryin’ to shove your tentacles down my throat, then I wouldn’t have almost chomped ‘em like, five times, and I wouldn’t have to put you in time out.”</p><p>He picked Cas up again, letting him wrap around his wrist while he grabbed the plastic storage bin that he had earlier filled with water. He brought both back out into the room and set the bin down right next to the head of his bed. He knew Cas wasn’t going to want to soak until after he fell asleep, so he let him stay on his arm while he got changed.</p><p>Dean shucked off his dirty and bloodstained flannel and jeans, swapping his current t-shirt for a softer one (Kansas 1987 Power tour, one of his personal favourites). He pulled his pajama pants out of his duffel and grinned; Cas had, for whatever reason, started buying Dean goofy novelty food-themed clothes. He now had five or six different sets of pajamas and at least a dozen pairs of socks with cartoon food and silly puns on them. Tonight’s were, apparently, covered in bacon and eggs.</p><p>“Nice choice, Cas.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’ weird octopus head – immediately followed by wiping the taste off his mouth and reminding himself to not do that again until after they managed to turn Cas back to normal.</p><p>Dean flopped on the bed. All at once, the exhaustion from the hunt caught up with him and his jaw all but unhinged in a massive yawn. He grabbed his phone off of the nightstand, checking to make sure Sam hadn’t tried to get in touch with him while he was in the bathroom. Satisfied, he turned it off and plugged it in to charge overnight.</p><p>Cas had worked his way up Dean’s arm and was once again at his shoulder. Dean absentmindedly reached a hand up and gave him a little scritch, reaching for his book on the bedside table with his other hand. Since the world wasn't in immediate danger of crashing down around them, he was working on getting caught up on books he had been meaning to read. He hadn’t actually read Asimov before, and when he told Charlie that he’d only watched <em>I, Robot</em>, she squawked in outrage and practically forced the book into his hands.</p><p>He’d only gotten a few pages in when he got distracted by Cas. The suckers on his tentacle tickled as they stuck and unstuck from his arm. He glanced down, watching as Cas scuttled his way from his shoulder onto his chest. He ducked his chin and quirked an eyebrow at the octopus.</p><p>“You going somewhere?”</p><p>Cas didn’t even bother making a noise in reply, just continued on his merry way down Dean’s chest. A stray tentacle landed on one of Dean’s nipples. Dean flinched at the suction against a very sensitive part of his body, even through his shirt.</p><p>“You might wanna watch where those suckers of yours are endin’ up, buddy.”</p><p>Cas’ big blue eyes looked directly into Dean’s as he brought another tentacle up to join the first on his nipple. The two appendages flexed and relaxed, the suckers catching and releasing his nipple with a friction that, had circumstances been different, would have been delicious. Another tentacle curled around his other nipple, lavishing the bud with the same attention that the first got. Dean hissed and tipped his head back at the feeling.</p><p>Alright, not an accident, then.</p><p>Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a second as he fought to get his wits about him under Cas’ onslaught. He was trying to figure out a way to gently pry Cas off of him without offending him so that Cas wouldn’t smite him later when he got his regular body back when the cephalopod formerly known as his boyfriend decided to leave his nipples alone. He sighed heavily in relief. He flopped his head back against the pillow and panted, trying to catch his breath.</p><p>And yelped immediately after, when a couple of tentacles tried to worm their way into his pajama pants.</p><p>“Nope! Nope nope nope.” Dean sat bolt upright, gentleness and tact thrown to the wayside as he pulled Cas away from his dick. “Should’ve never told you about the tentacle porn,” he muttered, tucking Cas under his arm like an angry, squirmy football.</p><p>He laid back down, but rolled over onto his side to put Cas into the water bin. The angelic octopus blurbled at him, but Dean ignored him, pulling the lid over the top of the bin. He didn’t push it down, though – he had looked up octopus videos once he got back to the motel, and those little fuckers could get out of pretty much anything. He and Cas both knew the lid was just a formality. Or a warning, in this case.</p><p>Cas curled into a little offended ball in the corner of the bin. Dean wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get his smite-y squint across as an octopus, but he sure managed it somehow. Dean wasn’t having any of his sass.</p><p>“Oh no you don’t – you’re not getting anywhere near my dick when you’ve got more limbs than I do.” Cas somehow shrunk into an even tighter ball and his glare got even smite-ier. Dean rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand down his face. He was even more exhausted than he had been a few minutes ago. “Whatever. Hopefully we can figure out what that witch blasted you with and get you back to normal soon.”</p><p>With that, Dean wriggled down under the covers, put his book up on the nightstand, and reached up to turn the light off. Just before his hand reached it, he had a thought. He swung his hand down to point accusingly at Cas.</p><p>“And no molesting me in my sleep!”</p>
<hr/><p>The Impala roared down the highway, her windows rolled down and the best of AC/DC pouring from her speakers. The music wasn’t at the usual bleeding-from-the-ears level, as Sam was currently asleep in the backseat. He hadn’t gotten back to the motel room until about ten minutes before Dean woke up. He decided to let Sam sleep on the drive home, claiming they could switch out when Dean got tired.</p><p>It was almost a twelve-hour drive from Cadiz, Kentucky. Well, twelve for normal drivers; with Dean at the wheel, they’d probably get back to the bunker in ten. Maybe even nine and a half. They’d already been on the road for a few hours, switching from Route 36 to the familiar asphalt of I-70.</p><p>Dean glanced down at other end of the bench seat. The water-filled storage bin was haphazardly strapped in with the seatbelt and about half a dozen bungee cords. Cas had stuck himself to one side of it, a couple of tentacles reaching over the side. They stretched and furled back up lazily, but otherwise, he didn’t move.</p><p>Cas had been in a similar position when Dean woke up that morning. The lid to the container was askew, and a single tentacle stretched out to curl gently around one of Dean’s fingers where his arm hung off the side of the bed. He figured that was as close to an apology as he would be able to get out of him in his current state.</p><p>A soft smile found its way onto Dean’s face, and he stretched his arm across the bench towards Cas. Much like he had earlier, Cas lightly wrapped his already reaching tentacles around Dean’s fingers.</p><p>“How you feelin’ there, Cas?”</p><p>Cas couldn’t speak or even emote as he usually did, but Dean knew him well enough that he didn’t really need to. His octopus face clearly expressed <em>How the fuck do you think I’m doing, Dean</em>?</p><p>Dean chuckled at Cas; he’d never say it out loud, but he was actually pretty cute as an octopus. “Just hang tight. We’ll get this sorted before you know it.” He moved his hand to the top of Cas’ head and rubbed it soothingly. Dean sent him another grin before turning his attention back to the road.</p><p>He hoped they’d figure out how to turn Cas back soon. Dean loved the angel, no matter what, but it was a little easier to navigate a relationship when they at least looked like the same species. He shook his head, forcing the thought from his head before it got any heavier. He removed his hand from Cas’ head to turn the music up a bit more.</p><p>He brought his hand back to Cas’ head; his tentacles were reaching up, the tips wiggling eagerly at Dean’s hand, ready to hold it again. Dean grinned at his boyfriend and brought his foot down just a bit heavier on the gas.</p>
<hr/><p>Once they got back to the bunker, Dean and Sam absentmindedly bid each other good night, split off to their respective rooms, and collapsed in exhaustion. For his part, Dean barely managed to get his boots off and Cas’ water bin safely set down by the bed before he passed out.</p><p>Dean woke groggily the next morning. He couldn’t remember if he dreamed or not, which, on the bright side, meant he didn’t have any nightmares. He yawned, his jaw practically unhinging, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He remembered at the last second that the container was by his bed, and yelped a little as he jerked his legs aside to avoid it.</p><p>Except, it wasn’t there – and Cas wasn’t, either.</p><p>More confused than concerned, Dean rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scrunched his face up as he tried to think about what could have happened. It was difficult – not because of any lack of brains or hurting himself while thinking, thank you <em>very </em>much, Samantha – but because he had barely woken up and hadn’t had his usual at least two cups of coffee.</p><p>Dean groaned, hauling himself off the bed as his bad knee creaked in protest. He got changed as quickly as he could with the fog of sleep still hanging over him, and then trudged out to the kitchen.</p><p>There was no sign of either Sam or Cas in the kitchen. Dean shrugged and turned to the coffee machine. Sam had already made a pot, and Dean poured himself a cup and chugged it down in one go. He sighed as he finished the cup, licking his lips. He poured another cup which he sipped at slowly as he made and ate breakfast.</p><p>Once he was done eating, Dean wandered down to the library. He figured Sam was probably holed up in there, nose buried in books trying to figure out how to change Cas back. Which is what Dean was planning on doing anyways, but he wouldn’t complain if Sam got a head start on it.</p><p>Sure enough, Sam was sprawled out on one side of one of the library tables; books were strewn across the table top, several open to seemingly random pages, as Sam cross-checked the information within them. A notebook sat near his elbow, with an assortment of writing utensils scattered beside it. A steaming mug of coffee sat above it, which Sam picked up and took a distracted sip from. He was, as expected, currently reading through some tome of witchcraft for a counter-spell. He glanced up as Dean approached.</p><p>“Hey.” Dean grunted in response, sitting down across the table from him. He grabbed a random book from the mess on the table. “We’ve been looking for…” he checked his watch, “about an hour already. The pile at the end there is the books we’ve ruled out.”</p><p>Dean raised his eyebrows. “We?”</p><p>Sam just jerked his head towards the other end of the table. Sure enough, there was Cas. His water bucket sat on the chair at the head of the table, while he himself sat on the table, a book open in front of him. Dean watched as he carefully stretched out a single tentacle and laid it on the open page. The suckers flared, then tightened, and then he was turning the page oh so gently. The tentacle retreated back under his body to join the rest, and he started – kept? – reading.</p><p>Dean turned back to Sam. “Did you really need to octo-nap him from my room and make him join your little research session?”</p><p>Sam snorted. “Dude, I woke up with him like, three inches from my face. And,” he tore his eyes away from the book to look back at Dean, “he was in here before me, trying to pull the books from the shelves himself.”</p><p>“Why’d he go visit you?”</p><p>“Jealous?” Sam smirked. Dean kicked him under the table. Sam just laughed as he rubbed his ankle, shaking his head. “Nah, I think it’s ‘cause he knows I get up before you do. I just went and grabbed the bin so he wouldn’t dry out.”</p><p>With that, Sam turned back to his book. Dean stared down at the book he was holding, picking idly at the corner of the pages. He turned his gaze back to Cas. He had known that Cas wasn’t happy about being stuck in a tiny octopus body, but he didn’t realize just how much it was affecting him. If he was actively hounding them to get researching, going so far as to try to do it himself despite his size and lack of opposable thumbs, then he was really itching to get back to normal.</p><p>Dean’s eyes stayed on Cas for a minute longer, concern rolling off of him like waves, but he knew Cas wouldn’t acknowledge the sentiment. Instead, he turned back to the books and started helping his brother and boyfriend find a way to undo the spell.</p>
<hr/><p>All things considered, it was actually pretty easy to break the spell. It only took them a couple of hours to find the spell that the witch had used, and another ten minutes to figure out the counter-spell. Then, it was just a matter of translating the spell (Sam’s job) and gathering ingredients (Dean’s job). They had just about everything they needed, and what they didn’t have could easily be purchased.</p><p>That evening, Dean stood with Cas wrapped around his shoulder, watching as Sam prepared a variety of herbs and crystals, all mixed in a saltwater brine, and lit candles and chanted over them. Dean wouldn’t admit it out loud, but despite the number of witches they’d hunted over the years, he was actually really proud of his little brother. Magic was an incredibly useful tool for hunters to have in their back pocket, and Sammy took to it like a duck to water.</p><p>Five minutes of Ancient Greek chanting and salty herbs later, and Cas was back, standing in his regular vessel and looking relieved, if sodden.</p><p>Sam stayed behind in the war room to clean up the remnants of the spell, waving the other two off. Dean led Cas out of the room, ducking in to his bedroom to get him a change of clothes before heading down to the laundry room. Cas quickly stripped and threw his soaked and salty clothes in the washing machine, taking the new clothes from Dean with a small but grateful smile.</p><p>Dean leaned up against the door frame, absolutely not checking Cas out while he got dressed. Based on the sharp look in Cas’ eye and the smirk on his face when he caught him looking, he wasn’t quite as subtle as he thought. Dean cleared his throat.</p><p>“It’s good to have you back, Cas.”</p><p>Cas chuckled drily. “It’s good to be back,” he said, pulling one of Dean’s old t-shirts over his head. He looked over at Dean with an expression of such naked love and adoration that Dean couldn’t help but blush under it, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. He coughed, clearing his throat again. Cas just smirked at him again, the bastard, and slipped his arm around his waist. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips, just holding it there for a moment, just to be held.</p><p>When they pulled apart, Dean grinned. “You kinky fucker,” he said, nudging Cas’ shoulder with his own. “Never should have told you about the tentacle porn.”</p><p>Cas hummed. “I thought you might appreciate it,” he said, nudging his nose against Dean’s face. “I have to admit, I was surprised you didn’t take advantage of the situation.”</p><p>“Dude,” Dean interjected, equal parts amused and disgusted. Cas, however, wasn’t finished.</p><p>“After all, it’s not that different from how we usually are.” Dean pulled back from Cas, fixing him with an incredulous look.</p><p>“Uh, I think it’s pretty damn different, Cas.”</p><p>Cas raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Is it? An octopus is just as dissimilar to my true form as a human is. Either way, I’m in a relationship with a different species than myself. And I retained my consciousness as an octopus. I was still able to consent.”</p><p>Dean blinked at Cas for a long moment, then dropped his head onto his shoulder, laughing hysterically.</p><p>“No offense, but that’s way too fucking close to bestiality for my taste.”</p><p>Cas hummed again. “Fair enough. Though I should tell you, by angelic standards –”</p><p>Dean slapped a hand over his mouth. “Nope! Don’t wanna know that the God Squad considers us being together to be bestiality, don’t wanna hear it.” He could feel Cas’ mouth curve into a grin behind his hand, and his eyes twinkled. The bastard.</p><p>Dean was about to suggest they head back to his room and “kill some time” while they waited for the machine to be done, but Cas nuzzled his head into Dean’s shoulder before he could. The two of them stood there, leaning against the doorframe to the laundry room in an old underground bunker, arms wrapped around each other, content to just have each other there.</p><p>Dean sighed and resettled himself against the door frame. They could stay like this a little longer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!</p><p>Edit: Aaaaa, I knew I forgot something! Dean's novelty pajama pants are inspired by <a href="https://diaryofageekgirl.tumblr.com/post/189238093894/bluestar86-so-whose-been-getting-dean-the">this</a> tumblr post. The pants in question, I imagine, would look like <a href="https://s2.sywcdn.net/getImage?url=https%3A%2F%2Fc.shld.net%2Frpx%2Fi%2Fs%2Fi%2Fspin%2F-122%2Fprod_17716978612&amp;t=Product&amp;w=1500&amp;h=1500&amp;qlt=100&amp;mrg=1&amp;str=1&amp;s=1122b3988b871bfa69477cb00f4d9e6a">these</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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